Prática de Shadowing: 4 True Chilling Horror Stories Animated - Aprenda a falar inglês com vídeo
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I met Christy in the last semester of my senior year at college.
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She sat two rows ahead of me in a lecture that bored us both to death.
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And one afternoon, she turned around with that half smile
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and asked if I had the notes from the class that she'd skipped.
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We started grabbing lunch after that.
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Always her choice.
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Always the same places.
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Chicken nuggets or a plain cheeseburger.
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Never anything with sauce that she couldn't identify.
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I didn't think much of it then.
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She was beautiful in a quiet way.
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She was smart enough to finish my sentences about work bull.
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And she laughed at my jokes like she meant it.
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After graduation, we kept seeing each other.
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We moved in together the next year.
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And now our three -year anniversary is nine days away.
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I've got a ring in a box under my socks.
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I keep taking it out at night when she's in the shower.
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turning it under the lamp, wondering if I'm about to make the biggest mistake of my life or the only one that matters.
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The problem isn't new.
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It's just gotten bigger.
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Literally.
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Christy eats like a ten -year -old who's been left alone with the freezer.
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Chicken nuggets.
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Pizza with nothing on it.
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Grilled cheese cut into triangles.
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Plain fries.
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The occasional plain hamburger if she's feeling adventurous.
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She says that textures make her gag.
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Anything slimy or leafy or weird.
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I've watched her push a single strawberry around a plate like it was roadkill.
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In three years, I have never seen her eat a vegetable that wasn't a french fry.
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She's put on weight steadily.
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The kind that shows first in the face and then everywhere else.
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Double chin when she laughs too hard thighs that rub when she walks, a belly that folds over the waistband of her sweatpants.
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I still love her.
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That's the part that makes me feel like st.
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But I also catch myself looking at her sometimes and feeling this hot, shameful wave of embarrassment.
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I started buying the family -sized bags on purpose about eight months ago.
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I'd come home with two large pizzas instead of one and say they had a deal.
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Or I'd leave a box of those giant frozen nugget bags on the counter like it was normal.
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She never questioned it.
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She'd just smile and say thanks like I was being thoughtful.
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Some nights I'd cook myself something real, a pad thai from a good place or a steak with actual vegetables,
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and she would sit across from me with her plate of microwaved nuggets
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and ketchup telling me about her day while I tried not to watch the way the grease shone on her lips.
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I told myself I was testing her.
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If she really loved me, she'd at least try one bite of what I liked.
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Well, she never did.
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And every time she said no, something in me hardened a little more.
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We went to the water park on a Saturday because she had seen a coupon online, and she thought it would be fun, something different.
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The park was crowded.
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Kids were screaming.
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The concrete was hot under our feet.
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She wanted to stick to the lazy river and the wave pool.
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I pushed for the big enclosed tube slide.
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You know, the one that twists through the dark and dumps you into a splash pool.
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Come on, it'll be like being kids again.
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She looked at the entrance, at the narrow opening, and I saw the hesitation.
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But she followed me anyway.
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She went in first.
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I heard her voice echo back, nervous.
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It's tighter than I thought.
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and then nothing for a few seconds
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and then a sharp panicked Jake I'm not moving Jake I'm
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stuck the line behind us stopped people started craning their necks a kid somewhere said loud enough for everyone mom
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that lady's too fat for the slide laughter rippled I stepped I looked closer to the entrance,
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and I saw her silhouette wedged about ten feet in, one arm pinned, water still rushing around her legs.
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She was crying already.
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These short, ugly sobs that made her whole body shake.
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The attendant at the bottom yelled up, Ma 'am, can you wiggle forward at all?
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She screamed back, voice cracking, I can't!
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It's squeezing me!
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They shut the water off.
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Two staff members had to climb the maintenance ladder and pry open a side access panel halfway down the tube.
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It took almost four minutes to get her out.
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When they finally pulled her free, she came out.
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Her face was purple -red, snot and tears mixed, hair plastered to her cheeks.
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The kids in line were still laughing.
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Someone had their phone out.
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I heard the little recording sound effect twice.
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Christy wouldn't look at anyone.
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She just kept whispering, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, while the manager wrapped her up in a towel and walked her to the first aid station.
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I followed.
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On the outside, I was the concerned boyfriend, hand on her back, telling the staff that, you know, it was fine, these things happen.
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Inside, I felt this terrible, guilty relief flooding through me like warm water.
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this was it.
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This was the moment that would finally make her see herself the way that everyone else did.
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She'd be too humiliated to keep living like this.
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She'd have to change or she'd have to leave me.
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And either way I wouldn't be the bad guy who dumped the fat picky eater.
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We drove home in silence.
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She stared out the window with her arms crossed over her stomach like she was trying to disappear.
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When we got back into the apartment, she went straight to the bathroom and stayed in the shower for almost an hour.
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I sat on the couch and I pulled up the video that someone had already posted.
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Footage of the rescue.
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Her crying.
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The staff yanking her out while her body jiggled and folded in ways that made my stomach twist.
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I watched it three times.
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The comments were already rolling in.
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Damn, she really got stuck, lol.
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They need to put a weight limit on that thing.
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I sent the link to my buddy, Mike, with a message.
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This is what I'm dealing with.
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I swear I can't marry this.
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The McNugget Mammoth.
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I thought she was still in the bathroom.
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I didn't hear her come out.
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She was standing behind the couch.
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Give me your phone, she said, voice flat.
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Christy, give it to me, Jake.
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I handed it over.
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She scrolled through the video history, saw all the three plays in a row, and then opened the messages.
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Her thumb stopped on the text to Mike.
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I watched her read it twice.
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When she looked up, her face had gone completely still in that way that scared me more than the crying.
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You sent this to Mike.
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You called me that.
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After what just happened.
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I was venting.
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It was a joke.
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You know how Mike and I talk.
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A joke?
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You've been feeding me like a pet for months.
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The extra pizzas?
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The ice cream you accidentally buy?
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You think I didn't notice?
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I thought you were being nice.
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I thought maybe you liked me this way.
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Her voice cracked on the last word.
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And the whole time you were just...
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What?
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Trying to make me so disgusting you wouldn't have to feel bad about leaving?
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I stood up.
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That's not fair.
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I tried to get you to eat normal food for three years.
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You wouldn't even try.
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You act like a kid at every restaurant we go to.
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I can't take you anywhere.
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I can't cook anything I actually want to eat because you'll just sit there with your nuggets like some...
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Like some what?
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She asked quietly.
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Like some fat loser you're embarrassed of?
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I didn't answer fast enough.
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She nodded, like she'd expected it.
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And then, she went into the bedroom and started pulling clothes out of the dresser.
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Not even folding them, just stuffing them into the old duffel bag under the bed.
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I followed her, trying to find the right words.
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The ones that would make this not my fault.
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Christy, come on, we can talk about this.
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The ring, it's right there in the drawer.
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I was going to propose next weekend.
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I still want to marry you.
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She stopped with a handful of t -shirts in her fist and turned to look at me.
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No, you don't.
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You want a version of me that doesn't exist.
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And you've been trying to punish the version that does.
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She zipped the bag.
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I'm not changing for you.
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And I'm not staying so you can keep resenting me until you finally work up the nerve to leave.
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She walked past me.
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At the door, she paused, not looking back.
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I hope the ring fits whoever you find next.
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Someone who will eat sushi with you and won't get stuck in a damn water slide.
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The door closed behind her.
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I stood there in the quiet apartment for a long time.
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I opened the sock drawer, looked at the ring box once, and then shut it.
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I didn't open it again.
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Two years moved like bad traffic.
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I kept the job because the pay was decent, and I was too tired to start over.
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Christy disappeared from my daily life, thank God.
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And then, one night, I was scrolling, and I saw her on a mutual friend's story.
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Different physique, standing next to my boss Steve at some charity thing that the company sponsored.
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She was in a black dress that actually fit.
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Waists snatched, arms toned, smile bright and expensive.
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I didn't think much of it until the next Monday when Steve started riding me in every meeting.
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New projects dumped on my desk at 4 .55pm.
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Need to be on my desk by tomorrow morning, Jake.
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Public critiques in front of the whole team.
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Let's circle back, Jake.
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Walk us through why this is two days late.
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I knew that Christy had told him everything, the nickname, the video, the way that I'd kept buying the big bags.
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Steve wasn't just being a moron, he was enjoying it.
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Every extra hour that I stayed, every time that I skipped lunch to catch up, I could just feel him smiling behind his monitor.
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I lasted four months before I caved.
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I found her new number through a friend of a friend, and I texted like a coward.
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I know you're with Steve.
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Work is hell.
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Can we talk?
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She met me at a Starbucks near the office.
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She looked like a different species.
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She ordered a black coffee and sipped it without sugar like it was a personality trait.
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I told her the truth.
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I was drowning.
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I couldn't sleep.
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I couldn't keep up.
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I asked her to talk to him.
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She tilted her head, studying me the way that you study a bug that's already on its back.
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Why would I do that?
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Because you can.
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And because part of this is my fault, and I'm sorry.
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She laughed once.
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You're sorry now that it's happening to you?
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I'll talk to Steve.
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I'll tell him to ease up.
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But you're going to do something for me first.
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I already knew I was going to say yes.
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Eight months, nothing but the s* that you used to push on me.
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Family size, everything.
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No vegetables that aren't potatoes.
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No salads.
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No real food.
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You eat like I used to eat.
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You get to feel what you tried to turn me into.
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I nodded.
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My throat was dry.
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She smiled.
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Small and satisfied.
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Good.
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I'll text you when it's done.
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Steve eased off the next week.
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Deadlines became human again.
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No more surprise 5 p .m assignments.
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I felt relieved.
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I went home and I ordered two large pizzas with extra cheese
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and I ate both while the grease soaked through the box onto my lap.
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The eight months were exactly what she wanted them to be.
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I gained fast.
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My face rounded first, and then my neck disappeared into my collar.
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The scale stopped being something that I checked, and it became something that I avoided.
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Clothes stopped fitting, and then the bigger clothes stopped fitting.
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Walking to the mailbox left me winded.
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Stairs became a special kind of hell.
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Heart hammering, breath sawing, sweat pouring down my back before I even reached the second floor.
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I stopped going out.
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Dating apps were a joke.
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Friends stopped inviting me to things that required moving.
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I hated her.
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I hated myself more.
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When the eight months were up, I texted her again.
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Short.
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I did what you asked.
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I can't live like this anymore.
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Help me fix it.
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She replied faster than I expected.
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Okay.
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Saturday.
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Same water park.
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Noon.
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I should have known right then.
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But I was tired and heavy, and the idea of getting smaller again felt like oxygen.
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I said yes.
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I found the cameraman through her public Instagram stories.
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She had been posting glow -up content and healing -era videos for months.
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Local guy.
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Decent gear.
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Trying to break into creator work.
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Well, I met him in a parking lot two days before the meetup.
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cash in an envelope.
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Whatever she told you to film, you still film it, but you post it with the title I give you, and you don't tell her we talked.
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He looked at the money, and then at me.
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and then nodded.
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Easy.
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Saturday was hot and bright.
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She was already there when I pulled into the lot, standing by the entrance.
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She waved at the camera, the guy was already rolling, and did a little spin for it, laughing like this was the best day of her life.
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I got out of the car in an old black t -shirt
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that stretched across my gut and board shorts that rode up between my thighs.
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My belly hung heavy and low.
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folding over the waistband.
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Every step made it jiggle.
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I was already sweating.
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She hugged me with the camera.
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Hey guys, she said to the lens, voice bright and performative.
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Today is about closure and growth.
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This is Jake.
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We have history.
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And today, we're going to face one of the hardest moments of that history together.
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I played along.
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Let her lead me around the park.
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I trailed behind, breathing hard, belly swinging, thighs rubbing raw.
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People stared.
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Some looked away.
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I kept my face neutral.
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Eventually, she steered us toward the big enclosed slide.
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Same one.
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I think it's time, she said, eyes sparkling for the lens.
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We go in, we come out different.
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I shook my head.
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No. Come on, Jake, she said softly, just loud enough for the mic.
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For me, it'll be healing, I promise.
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I let her push me toward the entrance.
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The second that her hand left my face, I grabbed her around the waist with both arms and yanked her in with me.
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He yelped.
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The tube was already narrow and we were moving too fast for the attendant to stop us.
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My bulk and the sudden extra weight of her body sent us careening into the first curve.
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We wedged hard about 15 feet in, her in front, me behind and on top of her in the cramped dark.
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My belly pinned her back against the slick plastic.
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Her arms were trapped.
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Jake, get the hell off of me!
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I can't!
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I can't!
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Breathe!
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Move!
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I knew the whole damn plan, Christy.
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The vlog, the healing trip.
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You were going to film me struggling, maybe getting stuck, and then post it as some big redemption arc for you, and, uh, oh, look how far he fell for me.
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You are so dumb if you thought that I wouldn't figure that out.
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She thrashed.
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Claustrophobia had her now.
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The tight walls, plus my weight, crushing down on her chest.
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Help!
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Help!
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Somebody help!
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I kept talking, calm.
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I paid your cameraman.
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He's posting this right now with a title that I picked.
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Let's see.
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Gold Digger X tries to trap her fat X in water slide for clout and gets trapped under him instead.
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That's a nice ring, right?
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She went still for half a second and then started sobbing and screaming at the same time.
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The tube amplified everything.
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I could hear the attendant shouting outside, feet on the maintenance ladder, the same side panel being pried open like last time.
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They got us out the same way.
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Four minutes of grunting and leverage.
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When they pulled her free, she came out first, gasping, face blotchy.
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I came after, slow and heavy, My shirt soaked and clinging to every roll.
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The line of people had phones out again.
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The cameraman just kept on rolling like we had paid him to.
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Christy didn't look at me.
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She grabbed a towel from a staff member and she walked fast towards the exit, the camera guy hurrying after her.
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I stood there, dripping, breathing hard, and felt something settle in my chest.
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The video dropped under the title that I gave.
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Spread faster than either of us expected.
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People love a reversal.
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Old footage of her stuck two years ago resurfaced.
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Comments poured in calling her a gold digger, a manipulator, a clout chaser who dated her ex's boss and then tried to publicly body shame the guy for content.
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The fact that Steve was her boyfriend and I worked under him turned it into corporate drama catnip.
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Screenshots of her old healing era posts got heavily ratioed.
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Someone dug up the original McNugget Mammoth text that I had sent Mike and reposted it with laughing emojis.
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Steve dumped her by text the next morning.
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I know, because she forwarded it to me with no context.
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Just the screenshot, and the words, F* you.
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I didn't reply.
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I quit two weeks later.
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Just an email and a two -week notice that I didn't finish.
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The apartment's smaller now that I take up more of it, but it's mine.
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I don't climb steps if I don't have to.
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I order what I want.
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Some days, I still feel the shame, like a low -grade fever.
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Most days, I don't.
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Tonight, I'm on the couch with the biggest pizza they make.
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Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, the works.
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And a two -liter bottle of Coca -Cola.
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The TV's on, but I'm not really watching.
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My phone lights up every few minutes with new notifications.
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People still tagging the video, commenting, sharing.
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I take a bite that stretches cheese from the slice to my mouth, and I chew slowly.
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Outside, it's raining.
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Inside, it's warm and quiet.
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I won.
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Hey guys and girls, the best people hit the subscribe button before moving on to the next story.
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the train from chicago to atlanta had been delayed twice already
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my eyes were burning from staring at the same powerpoint slide
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for the third time i was a sales manager three days on the road this trip two client pitches
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and a convention booth
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that still needed setup i had claimed the window seat in
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the quiet car laptop open blazer draped over the seat back
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because the heat from the vents made the fabric stick to my skin.
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The man who sat down across the aisle, and then moved into the empty seat beside me after the first stop, introduced himself as Lucas.
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Sales too, huh?
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He said after glancing at my screen.
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Tough.
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You into the big conference, or just a client thing?
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I gave the short version.
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Client meetings, then home.
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He nodded, like he understood the grind.
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We talked about hotel breakfasts that were never hot, about rental cars that always smelled like someone else's cologne, about how the airports had gotten worse.
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He asked if I was traveling alone.
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Most people do on these trips, I said.
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He said he was too, and then asked which hotel I was booked at.
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I told him the name without thinking.
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It was the chain that the company always used for per diem reasons.
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He said that he might be staying nearby, and then he asked for my card.
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I handed it over.
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Networking was part of the job.
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He gave me his in return.
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Something about wholesale distribution.
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We parted at the station.
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I took a cab to the hotel.
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I checked in, got my key, and rode the elevator to the third floor.
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Room 312.
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Thin walls, where you could hear the TV in the next room if it was loud enough.
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I dropped my bag, kicked off my heels, and stood under the air vent for a minute, letting the artificial cold dry the sweat at the back of my neck.
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I ordered a Cobb salad and a small bottle of wine from room service, turned on the TV to some courtroom show with the volume low,
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Anne sat on the edge of the bed with my laptop balanced on my knees, half watching, half scrolling through tomorrow's agenda.
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The phone on the nightstand rang.
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The hotel line.
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I picked it up.
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Ma 'am, this is Sophia from the front desk.
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Her voice was steady, professional, but there was something tight underneath it.
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I don't think this man is your husband.
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I'm calling because something feels wrong.
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I sat up straighter.
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Husband?
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I'm not married.
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What are you talking about?
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There's a man at the desk.
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He has your business card.
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He says his name is Lucas and that he's your husband, that you're expecting him.
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He wants a key to your room.
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Says it's a surprise visit.
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My mouth went dry.
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I met Lucas on the train.
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We talked for maybe 20 minutes.
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I gave him my card because he asked.
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That's it.
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I didn't tell him my room number.
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I didn't even tell him I was staying here specifically.
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Sophia was quiet for a second.
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I could hear the low murmur of the lobby behind her.
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He knew the hotel name.
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He knew your full name and that you were traveling for work.
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He's been very insistent.
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I told him I needed to verify before issuing anything.
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He's getting agitated.
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I stood up, the phone cord stretching.
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Can you call the police? Or security?
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I already have security on the way.
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I'm going to keep him at the desk as long as I can.
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I told him the key machine's having issues, that it needs to recalibrate or something.
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Can you stay on the line with me?
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Just until they get here?
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Tell me what he looks like so I can make sure that we're talking about the same person.
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I described him.
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The comb over.
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The way he had laughed a little too loudly at things that weren't funny.
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Sophia listened without interrupting.
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He's still here, she said after a minute.
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He's talking to the other receptionist now.
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I stepped into the back to call you.
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He's very calm all of a sudden.
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Too calm.
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I could hear the tension in her voice.
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My own heart was beating hard enough that I felt it in my throat.
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I walked to the door and I checked the deadbolt and then the chain, even though both were already set.
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The TV was still on.
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I muted it.
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He just handed her something.
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Sophia said, her voice lower.
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I can't see what from here.
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I need to go back out there.
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Stay on the line if you can.
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Don't open the door for anyone.
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The line went quiet except for the faint sound of the lobby.
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I could hear voices muffled.
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Then, Sophia's voice again, further away.
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Sir, I need you to wait right here while I...
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A few minutes later, a click.
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The electronic lock on my door whirred.
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I froze.
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The handle turned and the door opened inward.
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Lucas stood in the doorway with the keycard still in his hand.
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He smiled when he saw me.
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A slow smile.
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Damn, he said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him.
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the lock clicked again you got comfortable fast i like it
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i backed up until the back of my knees hit the bed get out right now he didn't move
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been thinking about you since the train he said his voice had dropped gone thicker the way you You smiled
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when you gave me your card.
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You knew what you were doing, didn't you?
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Giving a man like me ideas.
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I didn't give you anything, I said.
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My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
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Leave.
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Security is on the way.
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Security's busy.
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Your front desk girl took $500 to make herself busy, too.
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Funny how fast people get cooperative when you show them cash.
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He took another step.
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Come on, sweetheart.
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We both know why you're really here.
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Pretty girl, all alone in a hotel room.
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You were waiting for someone to notice you.
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You look even better like this, he said.
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His eyes were glassy now.
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I opened my mouth to scream.
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The sound hadn't even left my throat when the pounding started on the door.
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Police!
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Open up!
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Lucas's face changed in an instant.
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The leer vanished.
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His mouth twisted.
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What the?
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The door flew open.
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Two officers came in fast.
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A man and a woman in uniform.
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Sophia was right behind them with the security guard.
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Her face pale, but set.
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They had Lucas up against the wall before he could even finish the sentence.
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The female officer cuffed him while he cursed, calling me a b.
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Calling the whole thing a setup.
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They read him his rights.
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He kept twisting, trying to look at me over his shoulder.
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You wanted it!
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You gave me the card!
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You let me in!
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I didn't say anything.
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Sophia came over, her voice low.
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I'm sorry.
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I tried.
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He slipped the receptionist the money while I was on the phone with you.
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She gave him the key before I could stop it.
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They took him out.
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I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time after, shaking.
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The salad was still there.
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The wine had gone warm.
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Later, after I gave my statement in the lobby, one of the officers came back.
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They had searched Lucas' pockets and the small duffel
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that he had left at the desk there was a cheap
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gold wedding band still in its plastic packaging never worn there were three fake driver's licenses with different names and addresses
522
All with his photo.
523
And there was a small stack of business cards held together with a rubber band.
524
Women's business cards.
525
Mine was on top.
526
Underneath were others.
527
Some with dates and room numbers written on the backs in neat block letters.
528
One said, Denver, last March.
529
Another said, Phoenix Conference.
530
Seemed eager.
531
The officer told me Lucas had done this before.
532
The husband routine worked because hotels were trained to treat domestic claims differently than stranger requests.
533
A man saying
534
that he was surprising his wife with key didn't trigger the
535
same alarms as a random guy asking for a woman's room number.
536
Lucas had figured that out.
537
He followed women from stations or lobbies, learned their hotels, sometimes their room numbers, by watching or asking the right person,
538
and then pulled the act at the desk.
539
The cards gave him names and companies, and then the fake IDs let him bluff if anyone asked for proof, and the ring was for show.
540
The receptionist had taken the 500 in cash.
541
She counted it after Lucas went upstairs.
542
Some of the bills were fake.
543
Good enough to pass a quick look in a busy lobby.
544
Not good enough under real light.
545
That was why she called the police herself.
546
She was furious after being stiffed.
547
When they brought Lucas down in cuffs, she was the one who had pointed at the money and started yelling about counterfeit.
548
She came to my room an hour later.
549
I had just finished packing.
550
I didn't want to stay in that room another night.
551
She knocked, and when I opened the door, she stood there with her arms crossed, looking at me like I owed her something.
552
I saved you.
553
I called the cops.
554
You think that I wanted to lose my job over 500 bucks?
555
You should be thanking me.
556
I looked at her.
557
What do you want?
558
I asked.
559
She shrugged, but her eyes flicked to my wallet on the dresser.
560
I took a risk I could have gotten fired either way
561
a couple hundred would cover it for my trouble for looking out for you
562
I could have called the manager I could have told the police that she had accepted a bribe from a predator
563
but instead I opened my wallet counted out 220's and handed it to her
564
she took it without counting folded the bills smart, she said and then she left
565
i checked out that night and i took the first flight home the next morning
566
my company paid for it without asking any questions
567
when i got back to my apartment i installed a portable
568
door lock on my bedroom door you know the kind that wedges under the knob
569
i still use it
570
when i travel i keep my business cards in a separate compartment of my bag now
571
and i don't hand them out to men who sit next to me on trains
572
or planes if someone asks for one i say, I'm out.
573
Well, the police called a week later.
574
Lucas had been charged with criminal trespass, attempted fraud, and possession of counterfeit currency.
575
They were looking into the other cards.
576
Two of the women had already come forward with similar stories.
577
I don't know what happened to Kayla, the receptionist.
578
The hotel said that she was no longer employed there.
579
I filed a complaint about the security failure anyway.
580
They offered me a free night at their King's suite.
581
Pathetic.
582
I was 21 and working the evening shift at the little convenience store two blocks from my apartment
583
when she first walked in.
584
The place stayed open late for the neighborhood.
585
One night, a woman came in.
586
She looked almost ordinary from the far end of the aisle.
587
Mid -30s maybe.
588
Weird hair, a faded blue tank top and cut off jeans.
589
Up close the details went wrong.
590
Her lipstick was bright red and applied in a thick uneven smear that bled past the edges of her mouth.
591
Sometimes it was yellow, sometimes a harsh pink.
592
She always wore the same clothes
593
and she moved like someone who had just woken up in a place she only half recognized.
594
That first night she bought a 30 cent pack of gum
595
and held out a ten dollar bill i made change and handed it across the counter
596
she didn't blink her eyes locked on mine and stayed there wide
597
and unfocused while a slow grin stretched across her face
598
you're so pretty and beautiful i want to be like you exactly like you I managed a short laugh.
599
Thanks, here's your change.
600
She leaned closer.
601
You know I have a million dollars buried under the old bridge?
602
I'm going to marry Jennifer Lawrence next month and we're going to live in a big glass house on the moon.
603
The moon has oceans now, did you know that?
604
I'd tell you where I hid the money, but I have the power to keep secrets.
605
The power is inside my teeth.
606
If I open my mouth too wide, it leaks out.
607
She kept talking while I bagged the gum.
608
Something about a secret tunnel under the store.
609
Something about how the fluorescent lights were watching her for the government.
610
I nodded and said okay until she finally turned and walked out, still smiling.
611
I told myself she was just a weirdo, harmless.
612
She started coming in more often after that.
613
Sometimes she bought nothing.
614
She would step through the automatic doors with the same silent smile.
615
walk the length of every aisle without ever looking away from me
616
and leave again no words just the stare i mentioned her
617
to a couple of friends who work nearby they both said
618
the same thing creepy as hell i started carrying pepper spray
619
on my keychain one afternoon i was walking my dog along
620
the side street behind the store she stood behind a park sedan only the top of her head
621
and those unblinking eyes visible over the roof
622
when i looked directly at her she ducked down another evening
623
i sat on my second floor balcony with my ipad she
624
appeared on the sidewalk below cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted hey starlight you look so pretty today
625
the name landed wrong i had never told her my name i went inside and locked the sliding door her.
626
A week later, I was restocking the chip aisle when I felt someone behind the end cap, a soft giggling, whispering.
627
I turned and she bolted for the exit, bare feet slapping the linoleum.
628
I found her outside once more near the bus stop, once near the laundromat, once standing perfectly still across from the apartment building where I lived,
629
each time the same grin, each time that sensed
630
that she was measuring the distance between us i had had
631
enough one saturday night i was in my apartment my roommate
632
was working a double i had just pulled a towel from the closet
633
and was about to step into the shower
634
when i heard the front door open the sound carried all
635
the way down the short hallway a soft voice almost singing oh
636
so this is starlight's house my stomach dropped I crossed the bedroom in three steps,
637
opened my laptop, and angled the built -in webcam toward the doorway.
638
Evidence.
639
Then I grabbed my phone and stood with my back to the wall.
640
She appeared in the hallway light.
641
Her lipstick that night was the yellow shade smeared at one corner.
642
What are you doing here?
643
My voice came out sharper than I expected.
644
She tilted her head.
645
I...
646
I wanted to see if you were in here.
647
Do you have a phone I could borrow?
648
use the payphone outside.
649
I don't have enough money.
650
It's only 50 cents.
651
I don't have 50 cents.
652
Yeah, well you can't be in here, so go.
653
I stayed where I was, phone in one hand, the other hovering near the pepper spray on the dresser.
654
I heard the soft rustle of fabric near the laundry basket by the door.
655
When I moved into the hall, I saw her stuffing two of my sister's dirty t -shirts and a pair of my own shorts under her top.
656
Leave that alone, that's not yours.
657
She jerked the clothes free, dropped them in a heap, and ran.
658
The front door banked shut behind her.
659
I locked it, deadbolted it, then called the police with the webcam still recording.
660
Two officers arrived within 15 minutes.
661
They took my statement, watched the short video, and wrote down the description.
662
They said they would keep an eye out.
663
I spent the rest of the night on the couch with every light on and the pepper spray within reach.
664
She never came back into the store after
665
that the staring stopped the sudden appearances stopped a few nights
666
later walking home from a late shift i saw her one
667
last time she was on the corner under the street light
668
barefoot again dancing with a thin man in a sleeveless shirt
669
they turn in slow circles her yellow lipstick bright under the
670
sodium glow she didn't look in my direction i kept walking
671
weeks passed the police report sat in a folder on my
672
desk the webcam file stayed on my hard drive friends asked
673
if i was okay i said yes mostly
674
because the alternative was admitting how small the apartment had felt
675
for those first few days how every soft sound in the
676
hallway made my shoulders tighten i kept working the same shifts
677
the pepper spray stayed on my keychain out of habit more than fear.
📺 Mesmo canal
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Vocabulário e dicas de fala para esta lição
Este vídeo tem 677 frases e 6053 palavras para praticar shadowing. A fala dura 39:59. O falante fala em ritmo natural, cerca de 151 palavras por minuto, próximo de uma conversa do dia a dia. Apenas 79% das palavras estão entre as 3.000 mais comuns do inglês, por isso o vocabulário é exigente.
Vocabulário principal deste vídeo
15 palavras menos comuns do vídeo, com pronúncia e significado:
- desk /dɛsk/ (substantivo) — escrivaninha, carteira. A table, frame, or case, in past centuries usually with a sloping top but now usually with a flat top, for the use of writers and readers. It often has a…
- slide /ˈslaɪ̯d/ (substantivo) — escorrega, escorregador. An item of play equipment that children can climb up and then slide down again.
- entrance /ˈɛn.tɹəns/ (substantivo) — entrada. The action of entering, or going in.
- tube /tuːb/ (substantivo) — tubo, bisnaga. Anything that is hollow and cylindrical in shape.
- spray /spɹeɪ/ (substantivo) — borrifo, spray. A fine, gentle, dispersed mist of liquid.
- couch /ˈkaʊ̯t͡ʃ/ (substantivo) — sofá, cadeirão. An item of furniture, often upholstered, for the comfortable seating of more than one person; a sofa.
- pepper /ˈpɛp.ə/ (substantivo) — pimenta, pimenteiro. A plant of the family Piperaceae.
- heal /ˈhiːl/ (verbo) — curar, sanar. To make better from a disease, wound, etc.; to revive or cure.
- belly /ˈbɛli/ (substantivo) — barriga, pança. The abdomen (especially a fat one).
- fold /ˈfəʊld/ (verbo) — dobrar. To bend (any thin material, such as paper) over so that it comes in contact with itself.
- lobby /ˈlɑ.bi/ (substantivo) — saguão, vestíbulo. An entryway or reception area; vestibule; passageway; corridor.
- stare /stɛɚ/ (verbo) — fitar, encarar. To look fixedly (at something).
- aisle /aɪ̯l/ (substantivo) — nave. A wing of a building, notably in a church separated from the nave proper by piers.
- bedroom /ˈbɛdˌɹum/ (substantivo) — quarto, dormitório. A room in a house, apartment, hotel, or other dwelling where a bed is kept for sleeping.
- plain /pleɪn/ (substantivo) — planície. An expanse of land with relatively low relief and few trees, especially a grassy expanse.
Phrasal verbs que você vai ouvir
- look at (verbo) — observar, ver. To observe or watch.
- come out /ˌkʌm ˈaʊt/ (verbo) — sair, partir. To be discovered; to be revealed.
- ask for (verbo) — pedir. To request; to order.
- come on /ˌkʌm ˈɒn/ — vá lá. Come along with me; join me in going.
- stand up (verbo) — levantar. To rise from a lying or sitting position.
- check in (verbo) — fazer o check in. To announce or record one's own arrival at a hotel, airport etc.
- check out (verbo) — verificar, sacar só. To record the departure or withdrawal of someone or something (such as guests, employees, books, etc.).
- come after (verbo) — seguir. To pursue or follow; to pursue with hostile intent.
Pronúncia para ficar de olho
O falante usa 104 contrações e formas reduzidas, como didn't, I'm, don't. Diga-as na forma curta, do jeito que você ouve.
- Os sons de “th”: throat /ˈθɹoʊt/, breathe /bɹiːð/, thigh /θaɪ/, thin /ˈθɪn/, underneath /ˌʌndɚˈniθ/
- Os sons de “sh” e “zh”: sharp /ʃɑɹp/, possession /pəˈzɛʃn̩/, shake /ˈʃeɪk/, artificial /ˌɑː.tɪˈfɪʃ.əl/, tension /ˈtɛnʃən/
- Palavras longas — acerte a sílaba tônica: ordinary /ˈɔɹdɪnɛɹi/, automatic /ˌɔː.təˈmæt.ɪk/, artificial /ˌɑː.tɪˈfɪʃ.əl/, differently /ˈdɪf.ə.ɹənt.li/, accidentally /ˌæk.sɪˈdɛnt(ə)li/
Como praticar com este vídeo
- Ouça o vídeo inteiro uma vez sem falar e anote as palavras que você não conhece.
- Comece na velocidade 0,75×, faça shadowing frase por frase e volte à velocidade normal quando ficar fácil.
- Grave a sua voz e compare com o original, prestando atenção a palavras como desk, slide, entrance.
Gramática neste vídeo
As estruturas que o falante mais usa, com as palavras exatas do vídeo:
| Estrutura | No vídeo |
|---|---|
| Frases condicionais if + oração, will/would + verbo — uma condição e seu resultado | If she really loved me, she'd at · if you thought that I wouldn't figure |
| Present perfect continuous have/has been + -ing — uma ação que começou antes e continua | You've been feeding · you've been trying |
| “Used to” used to + verbo — um hábito ou estado do passado que não é mais verdade | used to push · used to eat |
| Voz passiva be + particípio passado — o foco está no que acontece, não em quem faz | been left · was crowded · were trapped |
O que é a Técnica de Shadowing?
Shadowing é uma técnica de aprendizado de idiomas com base científica, originalmente desenvolvida para o treinamento de intérpretes profissionais. O método é simples, mas poderoso: você ouve áudio em inglês nativo e repete imediatamente em voz alta — como uma sombra seguindo o falante com 1-2 segundos de atraso. Pesquisas mostram melhora significativa na precisão da pronúncia, entonação, ritmo, sons conectados, compreensão auditiva e fluência na fala.